Road of Life: Book Three: Love in War
by The Noble French Fry
Summary: Bo and Luke are now family men, but their reckless streaks have to come out sooner or later. And that's liable to cause conflict. [Long awaited sequel to Oh, Baby & Love Grows in Time. BoOC, LukeOC, EnosDaisy][Complete]
1. Every Time

**Title:** Love & War  
**Series/Part:** Book Three of the Road of Life Series  
**Takes place:** Five years after Book One (_Oh, Baby_)**  
Summary:** Bo and Luke are now family men, but their reckless streaks have to come out sooner or later. And that's liable to cause conflict.  
**Rating:** PG  
**A/N: **Yeah, I know. This has taken me FOREVER to write! I'm sorry! Anyway,this takes place about four and a half years after the last book you read. So if you get a little lost, don't worry. I'll answer some questions at the end of this chapter, and if you have any other questions, just ask!**  
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**Every Time**

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered hear today to bear witness to this joyous event," the pastor said, smiling faintly as he spoke the familiar words. He glanced briefly at the faces of the couple before him, and then continued on with the service. "We have come to see these two joined in holy matrimony…"

With the broad brim of her white hat shielding her eyes from the blaring Georgia sun, Betty-Lou Johnson-Duke looked up at the happy couple herself. As she tightened her coat against a sudden, chill December wind, she smiled at the couple. She was so very glad to see them finally tying the knot. She would've thought it would never happen with the way Daisy Duke had been about her current groom for as long as Lou had known her.

At the altar, as the preacher continued onward with his wedding words, Enos started to sniffle, as if he were holding back tears.

"Oh, no," Lou murmured quietly under her breath. "The groom's crying."

Noticing that her soon-to-be husband was holding back tears, Daisy too began to tear up. She only held back her tears for a few seconds, letting them well up in her eyes, before they started spilling down her cheeks.

Lou smacked a hand to her forehead quietly. "Oh, no," she repeated softly.

Daisy's tears set half the people gathered at the wedding to crying themselves. Uncle Jesse, sitting on Lou's right side with a sleeping baby in his arms, started to sniffle like Enos had, then let tears well up in his eyes. To the side of Daisy, standing as the maid of honor, Lou's sister Jo instantly started crying without reserve. To the side of Enos, standing as best men, Bo and Luke both sort of wiped at their eyes.

Bo tried to sort of hide the motion too, but Lou, being quite familiar with him after being married to him for these past five years, could definitely tell he was trying not to cry. And she smacked a palm to her face again.

_I married a crier_, she thought to herself.

Then she noticed a sniffling sound coming from her left side. Frowning, she turned to look. And, in the five chairs to that side, Lou saw five sniffling kids. Her son Johnny and her niece Yvonne, who were both five years old, in the farthest chairs were barely sniffling. In the chair beside Yvonne was her younger sister, nearly three years old, Jo and Luke's second daughter Lena. She was sniffling the most. Then between Lena and Lou were Lou's identical twin daughters Rosemarie and Rosalie. Being only two, they appeared to be simply following example.

"Not y'all too!" Lou whispered, more to herself than to the kids.

She turned away from them, fighting down the sudden urge to cry herself. She didn't cry at weddings, she reminded herself. But no matter how she fought it, tears started to well up in her gray eyes, distorting her vision. One of her hands caressed her swollen belly. Pregnancy hormones were doing this to her; making her cry. They had made her rather emotional in both of her previous pregnancies, why wouldn't they do so now?

There came a tug on her left sleeve, and Lou turned to look down at her daughter Rosemarie.

"Mommy, why we crying?" she asked softly, that childish innocence plain on her face.

Lou fought down the tears again, trying to get them under control. "Because, baby…" she trailed off as she realized that she didn't really know the answer to her daughter's question. Then an idea occurred to her, and she continued, "We're crying because we're—" Her voice started to break with the tears, but she pressed onward anyway. "—so happy for Aunt Daisy and Uncle Enos. They're tears of joy."

"Oh." The little girl glanced down as if considering the thought. Then she looked back up to her mother, with a blankly questioning expression that reminded Lou so much of the girl's father on her face. "If we happy, why we cry? Why we no laugh?"

Despite the tears that were now more freely flowing, Lou smiled. "Oh, I don't know, baby. I really don't know."

"Okay, Mommy," Rosemarie said.

Still smiling and crying at the same time, Lou turned back to look at Enos and Daisy again. She gave a happy sigh and briefly thought back to her own wedding. It was hard to believe that she and Bo had celebrated—yes, they had actually _celebrated_—their fifth anniversary four months ago in late August. Though, really, their celebrations had been rather small compared to the joint birthday party for Johnny and Yvonne that happened around the same time.

Absently, she let her arms fall so that they loosely hugged her again pregnant belly as she listened to Enos say his vows to Daisy while placing the ring on her finger. Lou's mind flashed back to the fact that there had been no rings at her wedding. There hadn't been time. Faintly, her stomach tightened.

Enos finished his vows, and the preacher went to Daisy's.

Again, Lou's mind flashed back to her own wedding, and her stomach tightened. She frowned, wondering why her stomach seemed to be tightening so much. Then her eyes went wide as she realized that she knew this feeling. And that it wasn't her stomach.

"Uh-oh," she murmured. "This ain't good."

Uncle Jesse glanced sideways at her. "What ain't good?" he asked quietly.

Glancing up at Enos, Daisy and the preacher who were nearing the end of Daisy's voice, Lou winced. "Uh, Uncle Jesse, I think the baby's on its way," she whispered in return. "Holy crap. What is it with me and weddings? Every single time... Oh, what a time for this…" Another contraction came, and Lou decided that this couldn't wait.

"You may now—" the preacher was saying when Lou stood up and interrupted.

Immediately, the preacher broke off what he was saying and looked up from his Bible at Lou. The eyes of the people gathered quickly followed suit. And among those sets of eyes looking at her where her husband's. He was raising an eyebrow at her in an expression that he frequently used towards his outspoken wife.

She cleared her throat. "I hate to interrupt, but… Doc Applebee?" she asked, looking around the crowd for the little old man. He stood up, and she smiled and waved briefly. "You'd better get down to the hospital with me, Doc. Baby's on its way!"

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**Rough explanation on the kids:**

**Bo & Lou's kids: Johnny (5 years old), Rosemarie (2), Rosalie (2)**

**Luke & Jo's kids: Yvonne (5), Lena (3), Summer (1)**

_**Please review! **_


	2. Billy

**Well, the amount of reviews--or rather lack thereof--is rather discouraging. But here's the second chapter anyway.**

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**Billy**

"Did y'all two decide on a name yet, or are y'all still arguing and your baby's nameless?" a familiar female voice asked from the door of the hospital room.

Bo and Lou simultaneously glanced up to see Daisy standing there, smiling, with her new husband by her side. Both Enos and Daisy were still wearing their full wedding garb, and had not waited to change. Lou was pretty glad that they hadn't, either, since that would have put them getting here to see their newly born nephew quite a bit later.

"Naw, we managed to agree on a name," Lou said, smiling faintly.

"_Finally_," Luke chipped in, bouncing his three-year-old daughter Lena on his knee. "Took them long enough to decide."

"Lou insisted on naming him _Roberto_ for God only knows how long," Bo piped up, rolling his eyes at his wife. He sported a two year old daughter on each hip, precariously balancing both Rosalie and Rosemarie equally.

Lou shot him a glare. "It's a fine name, Bo. Definitely better than naming him James. That's too plain and common."

Bo opened his mouth to retort but Daisy cleared her throat, cutting him off. "I thought y'all said you'd _decided_ on a name," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Since we now know what you decided _not_ to name him, what _did_ you decide to name him?"

"William Robert," Lou answered, stroking the baby's little hand gently as she said his name. "A compromise. Roberto became Robert. And somehow James became William. William Robert," she repeated.

"AKA Billy Bob," Bo threw in, rebalancing Rosalie on his hip from where she'd fallen down a little bit.

Lou scoffed, glaring at her husband. "We are _not_ calling him Billy Bob."

"Well, why not?" Bo asked.

"Because it makes us and him sound like backwoods hillbillies who don't know how to name a kid half decently. Not that there's anything wrong with being backwoods," she quickly added. "Besides, I just like William better. It's more… elegant, I guess."

Now it was Bo's turn to scoff. "More snobby," he said, mimicking a faintly British sounding tone of voice. "I'm not letting you call our son that. He's gonna get beat up by all of the other 'backwoods hillbilly' kids on the playground with a name like William!"

"They've been like this for the past hour," Jo cut in, smiling faintly at Daisy and Enos as she bounced her one-year-old daughter Summer on her hip to keep her happy.

"When _aren't_ they like this?" Daisy replied with a chuckle.

"Never that I've known 'em," Enos joined in. "They just wouldn't be the same ol' Bo and Lou if they weren't."

Lou snorted indignantly. "Glad to know you guys only love us for our bickering," she said.

"Nobody said that, Lou," Bo pointed out.

"No, they just implied it. And that was enough."

"Lou—"

"Okay you two!" Uncle Jesse quickly cut in, walking in the door holding the hand of a five-year-old child in each of his own. "Y'all both better hush before I smack the both of ya."

Still holding Uncle Jesse's hand, Johnny giggled. "Mommy and Daddy got in trouble," he said. All of the adults besides Lou and Bo suppressed chuckles.

"Yes, they did," Uncle Jesse said, smiling at the little boy. "Let that be a lesson to you, Johnny. No matter how old you are, you can still get in trouble if you're doin' something you ain't supposed to. No matter how old ya get, ya can still get yourself in trouble."

"Yes, sir, Grandpa Jesse," the boy replied, nodding firmly.

Uncle Jesse looked up to the rest of the family, eyes looking to each one in turn. "The rest of y'all better remember that too," he said.

Most of them offered smiles or faint laughs in return, but Lou shot the old man a semi-annoyed stare, which he conveniently missed. Both Johnny and Yvonne caught it though, and Johnny opened his mouth to say something to his "grandpa." Lou cut him off with a firm motherly stare, one she reserved for implying to her children that they were going to get a very severe punishment should they defy her, and the little boy's mouth instantly snapped shut.

"Well," Daisy suddenly spoke up, probably in effort to quickly change the slightly uncomfortable subject, "I haven't gotten to hold my new… cousin or nephew or whatever he is yet. May I?" She held out her arms towards Lou, gesturing for her to put the newborn Billy in her arms.

Lou glanced down at the baby, softly stroked his curled fist one more time, then carefully handed her son over into Daisy's arms.

"Hey," Daisy said to the little baby boy. "Hey, Billy. I'm your Aunt Daisy." She glanced up at Lou and Bo, and continued speaking to the baby in her arms in a tone somewhere around a whisper. "Yes, unfortunately, honey, your parents _are_ as crazy as they seem."

"_Hey_!" Bo and Lou simultaneously protested.

That caused not only Daisy, but Enos, Jo, Luke, Uncle Jesse, Johnny, Yvonne—man, there are a lot of those Dukes!—to chuckle. That in turn caused Lou to scoff and fold her arms tightly over her chest.

"I feel so loved," she muttered.

"Well, what do you expect?" Jo joked. "You keep having babies at the worst possible times, and arguing and getting on peoples nerves. How do you expect us to get along with you and not poke fun at you?"

"Hey," Lou snapped back at her sister, realizing that that seemed to be her word of the day. "I seem to remember a certain someone who had a baby right in the middle of not only her own wedding, but mine too." She glared at her angrily. "Besides, I can't really help it if my kids decide to come along during my wedding, the middle of a church service, and Enos and Daisy's wedding." She turned to the newly wedded couple she had just mentioned. "Which I am sorry about anyway, by the way."

"It's okay, Lou," Enos said. "Like you said a minute ago. It ain't really your fault or choice."

"Thank you, Enos," Lou said, smiling at him and nodding. Then she sighed. "You know, none of this ever woulda happened like this if I'd never come back to Hazzard. This is one crazy town."


	3. Kiss My Country Glass

**Once again, the lack of reviews is very depressing. But here it is anyway.**

**Oh, yes. And I just found out that the genres listing was messed up. And I fixed it. ((facepalm)) **

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**Kiss My Country Glass**

"Mmm, I can't believe Lou actually sent us out this late to pick up some _alcohol_ for her," Luke said, rolling his eyes as Bo parked the General Lee and both men slid out the windows. "It's goin' on nine o'clock, and she sends us all the way into town." He gestured at the Boar's Head sign up ahead.

Bo scoffed. "I can. Crazy woman's sent me out later than this before. A lot of times. For a lot of different things. Especially when she was pregnant and right after she had the twins. As if the cravings weren't bad enough, she got all moody and impossible to live with if I said no."

Luke grunted, and Bo glanced over at his cousin. "Jo didn't get like that?" he asked.

"Nope," Luke replied, shaking his head. "Not really. Good thing too. I don't think I could stand doing this a lot, even if it was for my pregnant wife. It's already annoying me that she sent me along on this trip for _your_ wife."

Bo mumbled under his breath at that. He only wished that Lou would do that little. But, as he walked in the door of the Boar's Nest, he sighed. No matter how much he wished Lou would stop sending him on these spur of the moment trips, he knew she wasn't going to, and he really wasn't going to ask her to stop either. Five years of marriage had taught him that that attempt would be utterly fruitless.

His Betty-Lou was one stubborn woman.

Which was why he was now out here, at the Boar's Nest, at nine o'clock on a Friday night, when he had just put his three oldest kids to bed, instead of being at home spending time with his wife and helping her take care of their new baby boy.

Yeah, instead, he was here in the bar/liquor store, buying beer for her.

Making his way around the tables—which were mostly full—and around people—some of which he waved at and said a simple "hey" to—as he made his way towards the bar. It didn't take him and Luke very long to cross the distance to the bar.

"Hey," Bo said to the familiar bartender. "I need—"

"Betty-Lou's case of Coors?" he interrupted.

Half chuckling, half sighing, Bo nodded. "Yeah. How'd you know?"

The old barkeep smiled a crooked half smile of amusement. "Well, son, you and Luke ain't been in here just to drink in at least six months. Closer to a year. Only been in here to buy alcohol to take home—mostly that Coors beer for your Betty-Lou—and to see them concerts." He shrugged. "Ain't no big leap of logic to figure what you're here for. Y'all two have lost your want to drink your time away in here."

Bo and Luke exchanged a glance, and both knew what the other was thinking. Neither thought that was a good thing. It sort of implied that they had lost the edge. The thing that had made them those good ol' boys—the notorious Duke boys of Hazzard.

Bo opened his mouth to retort, but again the barkeeper interrupted him.

"Right. Betty-Lou's Coors. I'll get that for you," he said, turning away and heading off to get the beer.

When he was gone, Bo turned to Luke. "Do you think we've lost our edge?" he asked.

Luke shrugged. "Really, I don't—"

He was sharply interrupted by a loud sneering from a man sitting a few barstools down as the man on the stool beside him halfway fell, halfway leaned forward and smacked his forehead on the bar. That man then moaned, which only caused the first man to laugh even more. Both Duke boys turned to look at the pair.

"All you southern redneck 'folks' can't hold your liquor," the first man said in a distinctly Yankee voice that easily separated him from every other person in this bar. "You'd think all you crazy moonshiners could hold that liquor, but uh-uh. You can't hold it worth the flip of a coin compared to us northern people."

The man with his head on the counter just moaned again.

Bo glanced over at Luke, raising an eyebrow.

His cousin smiled a crooked, outlaw-ish smile that Bo hadn't seen on Luke in five years. "Well, what better way to prove we've still got edge than to shove a Yankee's words right back down his throat in a drinking contest?"

Bo mirrored his cousin's smile, and both men turned towards the Yankee man.

"Sir, you're about to eat them words you just said," Bo told him. "Me and my cousin here could drink you under the table with our hands tied behind our backs."

The man gave them an arrogant smirk in return. "Is that so, boys?" He pointed to a neat row of four shot glasses laid out on the table in front of him. "I've already had four shots of tequila. Try that one on for size."

"Tequila?" Luke asked. He shook his head. "Mm-mm. I'll do you one better." He walked around the man with his head on the bar and the Yankee man to sit on the stool on the Yankee man's other side. Bo followed and sat down on the stool beside Luke. The bartender came out of the back, carrying the "case" of Coors for Lou, and Luke looked at him. "Eight shots of whiskey, please. Four for me, four for Bo here."

The barkeeper's eyes widened. "Boys…?" he asked, gesturing to the case of Coors.

Bo waved dismissively. "We'll get that in a bit. Right now we're going to prove to this here Yankee man that us southerners can hold our liquor just as well as he can. So eight shots of whiskey please."

"Alright, whatever you say," the bartender said, setting down the beer and moving to make the shots of whiskey.

"Whiskey, eh?" the Yankee man said, raising an eyebrow. "I don't much care for the stuff, but hey, if you'd rather shoot whiskey than tequila, that's alright with me. Just so long as you can keep up."

After the barkeeper set down four shots of whiskey in front of both Bo and Luke, both boys simultaneously knocked back the first one easy. The other three went down just as quickly, just as effortlessly, and just as concurrently.

"Mmm," Bo said, setting down the fourth shot glass. "Sir, I think you're the one who's gonna have trouble keeping up. So you can just kiss my country _glass_, because you're goin' down."


	4. In and Out

**In and Out**

Bo staggered his way across the front yard of his and Lou's house, then up the white-painted front steps to the porch as the world around him spun. He had to stop and steady himself more than a few times, and tripped and fell to his knees more than once as well. Finally, though, he made it up the stairs and onto the porch.

He stopped to brace himself against the wall, everything continuing to swim and spin in front of his eyes. In addition to the wooziness and dizziness, he was also nauseous and felt like he could lean over and puke out everything he'd eaten today. He was holding that feeling at bay, though, as much as he could.

He couldn't for the life of him remember how many rounds he, Luke, and the Yankee man had gone at the Boar's Nest, but he knew it was enough. They had, after quite a lengthy battle, proven the man very wrong and he had fallen, not forwards onto the bar like his friend had, but backwards and off of his stool with a very loud crash. That had aroused a collective cheer from the bar patrons and hearty laughs as well as another celebratory round for Bo and Luke.

And however many rounds they had gone, it had worked a number on Bo and Luke.

Finally, Bo regained enough balance to fumble around in his pocket, find his house keys, get the key in the actual keyhole—this required more tries and time than anything else—and open the front door. He clumsily flipped on the light switch, bathing the living room in harsh yellow light that hurt his eyes.

He blinked a minute to let his eyes adjust, then turned around, intending to stumble his way into his bedroom.

But instead he almost had a heart attack when he saw his wife sitting on the couch, arms folded and fingers drumming on her forearms. Even drunk and slow-minded as he was at the moment, Bo recognized her no-nonsense, "Bo Duke is in a hell of a lot of trouble" look on her face.

"Hey, Lou," he slurred.

She stood, arms still crossed, and walked her way across the room to him. To stand practically nose to nose with him. She looked him up and down as he stood completely still, unflinching, as he blinked slowly at her as he tried and failed to figure out what she was doing.

Finally she spoke in a voice so cold it was easily chillier than the late December air outside. "You're drunk, Bo," she said icily, not even the faintest hint of questioning in her tone.

"Huh, am I?" he responded slowly.

"Yeah, you are."

For a long moment, both of them were silent, only the sound of Lou's fingers drumming against her forearms breaking the quiet. Bo, being drunk and therefore slow-minded, couldn't think of anything worth saying. Lou, being the woman that she was, was only in the stage of calm before the storm.

Finally, though, she snapped. "What the hell did you think you were doing, Bo?!" she thundered. "I sent you to the liquor store for a pack of beer. I thought that I could confidently send you in there and you wouldn't just sit down and have yourself a drink. Much less get yourself completely drunk!"

"But…"

"Y'know, it doesn't bother me so much that you're drunk as that you didn't even call to tell me you were gonna sit down and have a couple of drinks!" She glared at him. "I would've been alright with that, Bo. But not_ this_."

"But... the Yankee guy… and me and Luke… and the contest…" he blubbered.

Lou's eyes widened. "You got into a _drinking contest_?" she exploded. "A freaking contest, Bo? Why did you do that? You didn't even have a reason to get one drink, much less get into a contest to see who could drink the most. Do you know what time it is, Bo? It's past midnight. You can't just randomly decide to stay out past midnight on a Friday night. Not only do you have a wife, you've got four kids. One of which woke up about an hour ago and asked where his daddy was. And I had to lie to the boy. You're a family man now."

"I… I know _that_," he said. "What? You think… You think after all these years I'd done forgotten?"

She scoffed. "Obviously you've forgotten _something_. Whether it was that you're a family man now, or whether it was your common sense, I don't know. And I don't rightly care to know neither."

"Lou…" Bo slurred, taking a clumsy step forward, intending to wrap his arms around his irate wife to calm her down. "Me and Luke… we didn't mean no harm…"

Lou took a step back as Bo stepped forward, keeping the distance between them. When he started to take a step again, she shoved a hand to his chest, keeping him firmly where he was.

"You and Luke?" she said, bobbing her head angrily with each syllable. "You and Luke? You know, most wives would now turn around and blame this on the other person, but not me. Now or ever. I _know_ better than to blame this one on Luke. I know this one was your doing. It's _always_ your fault."

"Why—" he started.

"Now hold up a second," Lou said, some form of realization passing across her face. "How the heck did you get home, Bo? You're obviously in no shape to have driven anywhere, much less home. And knowing him, Luke's probably in the exact same shape. So who the heck had the stupidity to bring you home?"

He paused, trying to remember. "Cooter," he answered when he finally remembered.

"Cooter?!" Lou cried, fury growing if that was at all possible. "Bo, I don't think that man has ever been sober a day in his life. He ain't no more fit to drive than you or Luke. God help me," she muttered under her breath as she turned away from him and ran her hands through her brown curls.

"Lou," Bo said, trying to sound as gentle, loving, and apologetic as he could in his current state. "Baby…"

She whirled instantly on her heel, shaking an angry finger in his face. "Oh, no. Don't you even _try_ to 'Lou, baby,' me, Bo Duke. There ain't no forgiveness here for you tonight. Probably won't be any for you tomorrow neither. As a matter of fact, get your ass out of my house right now."

"Lou!" he cried, incredulous.

"You heard me, Bo," she said, voice once again that ice-cold tone of frosty hatred. "You get out of my house. I would let you sleep on the couch, but I don't want my kids getting up and finding you in the morning and asking what's wrong with their daddy. So you turn around and get out of my house. I don't care if you sleep on my porch or if you find somewhere else to go tonight. You sure ain't sleeping here."

Bo's reply was cut off by the sound of crying from the direction of their bedroom.

Reflexively, Bo started in that direction. He'd gotten less than two steps when a vice-like grip on his lower arm stopped him cold. He turned and looked at the hand, and at the nails on it that were digging sharply into his flesh. Then he looked up the arm that was attached to the hand and at his wife's face.

It was a picture of ferocious anger and defense, mingled together to make the most irate and pissed off Lou that Bo had ever seen.

"Don't you go _near_ that baby," she bit out through gritted teeth. "You get outside. NOW."

"Lou—" he started.

But her grip on his arm then doubled as she grabbed a hold of his other arm with her other hand and began dragging him back towards the front door. He struggled, but wasn't able to even loosen her death grip or pull against her. Even if he hadn't been drunk, the resistance still would have been futile. Lou was strong in more ways than one, and her anger only drove her that much harder.

Before he even knew what was happening, Bo was being literally thrown out the front door onto the porch. As he struck the wooden porch, the door slammed forcefully shut. The sound of the locks clicking into place reached his ears before he slumped against the porch and blacked out.


	5. Not Here

**Well, sorry if y'all think I blew Lou and Jo's reactions out of proportions, but.. for me, it works.**

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**Not Here**

Luke managed to stumble his way across his yard with little difficulty. He was a little more in his right mind than his cousin was, and therefore wasn't having as much trouble. Still, he tripped on his way up the stairs and bumped both knees against them. He also tripped on the porch and fell to his hands and knees. The world around him spun for a moment before he got the dizziness under control and got back to his feet.

He twisted the doorknob and found that the door was open. Jo had probably left it open for him when she went to bed, expecting him to be along sometime soon thereafter. He didn't know what time it was now, but he knew his wife had expected him to come back much sooner than this.

He stumbled his way through the darkened house, not even bothering to turn lights on. He didn't want to wake up one of his girls. Or his wife.

When he reached the open door to his bedroom, some part of his brain that was still partially sober registered the fact that this room was darker than all the other ones he had just navigated. Sure, after five years, he should be able to navigate the room in the dark, but with the amount of stumbling his drunken dizziness was causing took away from that.

A few steps into the room, his shin connected with a low table that he didn't remember and he fell forward. Despite his attempts and his hopes, he crashed into the table and the floor with a loud crash.

He waited for a moment, and what he was expecting came. Across the room, the bedside lamp was turned on and bathed the room in golden light. Though Luke couldn't see her with the bed in the way, he knew that Jo sat straight up and blinked in his direction.

"Luke?" she called, voice soft though it carried across the room.

He didn't answer her.

"Luke, honey?" she called again. "Is that you?"

When again, he failed to answer, she threw back the covers on the bed and swung her legs over her side of the bed. Softly, making no semblance of sound, she padded around the foot of the bed and over to where Luke was now trying to hurriedly pick himself up. And failing.

"Luke!"

Luke turned his head to look at his wife, and saw that she was standing there, looking down at him with wide eyes. She stood there like that for just a minute, then swiftly rushed to his side and started pulling him up by one arm. When she had dragged him to his feet, she turned herself under one of his arms and tried her best to help support his weight.

"Luke, honey, are you okay?" she asked softly.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think so…" he slurred.

Smelling her husband's breath as he spoke, Jo scrunched up her nose. "Luke, you've been drinking," she stated slowly. When he randomly stumbled forward and Jo caught him, her eyes widened. "You're drunk!"

"Mmmm," Luke mumbled, trying to keep his suddenly heavy eyelids open.

Still halfway supporting her husband's weight, Jo guided him towards the bed, taking slow steps to keep up with Luke's stumbling. She steadied him as much as she could, but he still had difficulty. "What did you do?" she asked.

"Contest with a Yankee," he answered. Then, unable to help himself, he gave a spastic laugh.

Stopping their walk towards the bed, Jo looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "Contest? You got into a drinking contest?"

Still laughing spastically, Luke nodded.

Rolling her eyes in a gesture that made her look very much like her sister, Jo groaned. "Oh, Luke. You shouldn't have. You really shouldn't have." She sighed. "That was really irresponsible and stupid of you, you know."

"But Jo…" he slurred slowly. "We won."

"Mm-hmm," she mumbled. "That's just great, Luke. But I don't rightly care. You coulda lost, you coulda won, it wouldn't have made a hill of beans' difference to me. Drunk is still drunk whether you won or not."

She started to resume their walk towards the bed, but froze halfway through the first step, head snapping back towards Luke. "Honey, how'd you get home?" Her eyes went wide. "You didn't drive, did you?"

He shook his head. "Cooter drove us home."

"Us?" Jo asked, frowning. Luke didn't even get a chance to answer before realization washed over her face. "Bo. You dragged him—_Bo_—into this with you? Luke!"

"Hey, I didn't _drag_ him into nuthin'," he protested.

"Mm-hmm," Jo muttered disbelievingly. "I know better than to believe that, Luke. You two are always dragging each other into trouble. Being the pair of crazy fools that you two are. And something tells me that this one's probably all your fault."

"Hey now, that ain't fair," Luke muttered.

Jo scoffed. "It also ain't fair that I gotta deal with your crap. Especially when I ain't done nothing to deserve it." She sighed. "Why'd you do this, Luke? Did you have some specific reason?"

"Uh…" he said. That was all he could say, since he honestly didn't remember at the moment.

Again, Jo scoffed. "You don't remember, do you?"

Instead of answering, Luke moaned. "I need sleep," he said, starting to move towards the bed again. But Jo stood frozen, still holding onto Luke's arm. And she kept him from moving forwards.

"Not here," she said sharply. "Not tonight. You, sir, are sleeping on the couch."

Thinking that she was surely kidding, Luke gave a half-chuckle. "Oh, c'mon, Jo."

But when he looked over at her, he saw her flat, gray stare, boiling with a quiet anger. And in that moment, Luke realized how much she reminded him of her sister Lou when she was angry.

"I'm not kidding, Luke," she said quietly yet harshly. "Not at all. You can sleep on the couch, or you can sleep in somebody else's house. But as long as you're drunk, and not apologizing for it, you're not sleeping in my bed."


	6. I So Hate Consequences

**I So Hate Consequences**

"Dada! Dada! Up! Up!"

That sound coupled by the sudden pouncing of a little body on top of his stomach jarred Luke roughly to wakefulness. He blinked against the bright light of the risen sun pouring through the living room window and against the throbbing headache in his forehead. Finally he blinked away the residual dizziness and the brightness enough to see the face of his youngest daughter, Summer, and her wild blond hair.

"Hey, Sum," he rasped through a dry throat, trying to smile. "Mornin', baby."

The little girl grinned and planted a sloppy kiss on her daddy's forehead. "Mornin', dada," she said.

Out of the corner of his eye, Luke saw his middle daughter Lena walk up. She cocked her head to the side, dark hair falling off of her shoulders, in a way that reminded Luke of the girl's mother. It was the very same look she had when she had a question, but didn't know if she should ask it.

He looked over at her. "What is it, Lenny?" he asked her.

Her head remained tilted to the side. "Daddy, why are you on the couch?" she asked in her quiet way. "Why aren't you in your bed?"

"Uh…" Luke started, unsure of what to say. He really didn't want to tell his kids that he'd gotten himself in deep trouble with their mama last night. He also didn't know how he was supposed to explain to a three- and one-year-old about getting drunk.

Luckily for him, a familiar voice cut in. "Girls, Daddy was sick last night, and he didn't want to get Mama sick, so he slept on the couch," Jo said, walking around the foot of the couch. She started to wink at Luke out of her daughters' range of vision, but stopped and rolled her eyes instead. "Yvonne?" she called.

The five year old girl came out of the back of the house, into the living room—and the corner of Luke's vision. "Yes, mama?" she asked.

"Take your sisters and y'all get your flip-flops on," Jo instructed her daughter. Little Summer started to protest, but her mother silenced her with a glare. "I know you don't like your shoes, Summer, but you're gonna wear 'em anyway." She swept her hand back towards the back of the house. "Go on. Now."

"Yes, ma'am," Yvonne and Lena chorused.

"Yah, mama," Summer responded as well.

Then all three girls headed off to the back of the house, towards the bedroom that all three of them shared. Both of their parents silently watched them go, Luke anxiously and Jo calmly and patiently.

When they rounded the corner of the wall, and were safely out of earshot, Jo turned on her heel towards her husband. He examined her expression, anxious to find out what she was going to say, and how she was feeling about what had happened last night. He wondered if she was still angry, hoping though that she wasn't; that she was now in a forgiving mood. But all that he could see in her familiar gray eyes was a flat, emotionless stare.

"Me and the girls are going to Lou's," she said, her voice just as flat as her eyes. "You decide you wanna tell me what you were thinking last night, you come and find me. Until you're ready to apologize, I don't want to talk."

She turned away, towards the girls' room, and Luke opened his mouth to respond. Quickly, Jo spun around again, her pointer finger raised in a warning gesture that she usually used on their daughters.

"And I mean at all," she said sharply. "Understand?"

Like a child that had just gotten himself in trouble, Luke shakily nodded. When Jo turned around again, calling after her three daughters, Luke slumped against the couch he was laying on. He looked up, and silently prayed that he hadn't ruined his marriage with a foolish mistake like last night.

He was ready to apologize for it now, but he doubted now would be a good time to bring it up with his wife. Besides, he had a horrible headache and wasn't sure he could think halfway straight.

When he looked back down again, his three daughters were re-emerging from their room.

"Let's go, girls," Jo said, reaching out to sweep up little Summer in her arms. "We're going to Aunt Lou's." She started towards the door, but glanced over her shoulder at Luke. "I don't know when we'll be back," she said pointedly.

He had only a moment to blink at the uncharacteristically cold statement his wife had just made, but in that moment, she was out the door. Slamming it rather forcefully behind her.

-+-+-+-

"Heyo, sleepyhead, wake the heck up," came a sharp, familiar voice directly in Bo's ear. "I said get up." This time her call was further away from his ear. It was then coupled by a sharp, but not entirely hard, kick to his lower rib cage. The combination easily stirred him to wakefulness making him halfway curl around the point his wife had kicked.

When he opened his eyes, he quickly said, "Gah!" and blinked against the brightness of the world around him.

"Yeah, lemme guess," his wife said, and though he couldn't see her because he was still squinting and blinking, Bo knew her hands were balled into firm fists and planted on her hips. "You can't see, because your eyes are feeling pretty sensitive. You've got a heck of a headache. Your stomach—not your ribs—feels like someone kicked you in it. Hey, welcome to your hangover, Bo. I hope it really sucks, because you deserve that."

Finally his eyes adjusted enough that he could look up at his wife from where he laid, on his back on their front porch. "I do _not_," he protested. "I do not deserve a horrible hangover."

Lou scoffed. "Yeah, you do. Hangover's what comes after the getting drunk thing, Bo. Welcome to the consequences of your stupidity. And don't get too comfortable with them, because your 'consequences' don't end there. They only get worse."

He frowned, unsure of what she meant. When he couldn't figure it out on his own, he asked, "What do you mean?"

Lou gave him a smirk which looked entirely evil and conniving, jerking a thumb back at the house. "You, Bo Duke, are not allowed in this house until I get an apology and a promise out of you. The doors are all locked, and you no longer have your keys."

His eyes widened at hearing that, and he patted down his pockets. They were all empty.

"Johnny, Rosalie, and Rosemarie have all been instructed not to let Daddy in," Lou continued, crossing her arms smugly. "So good luck getting little Billy to open the door for you. Cause I sure won't."

"Lou, you just can't kick me out of _our_ house!" he protested, sitting up.

She scoffed. "Yeah, I can. And guess what? I did."

"You can not!" he argued vehemently. "And you can't just up and turn all of the kids against me either! Every single one of them is as much mine as yours."

"Yeah, but I'm not the irresponsible one."

Shakily, Bo got to his feet. "Lou—" he started. But she just folded her arms tighter, thrust a hip out, and clenched her teeth. She was firmly rooted where she was, and she was going to defend her position like it was her last stand. He knew her well after five years. And he knew that it was time for a new strategy.

So he sighed. "Lou, you're going overboard with this thing," he said quietly. "Really. So I went and had a few drinks. So what? The reason I was there in the first place was to buy alcohol for _you_. What's the difference?"

"There is a difference, Bo, and you know it," she said sharply. "You just went to get some beer for me—which you wound up forgetting, by the way. Not whiskey. Just beer. And that's only for one at a time. You obviously had a lot more than one at a time. And you know you didn't just have a 'few drinks' last night either. Maybe _a few drinks too many_. There's a huge difference between having one beer that doesn't do much of anything to you and having several shots of whiskey that get you so wasted it's not even funny."

"Lou—"

She threw a hand up in his face to stop him, then after he did, she returned it to her hip. "And until you're ready to _admit_ that difference and _promise_ to me that you're not going to do what you did again, you're not coming in this house. Or even talking to me." With that, she whirled on her heel and marched back into the house.

And locked the door loudly behind her.

Angered, Bo kicked a boot against the side of the house and similarly banged his head against it. After groaning and muttering under his breath about the annoyingness and unforgiving nature of his wife, he turned and hopped down the front steps.

Maybe Uncle Jesse would take him in.


	7. Biddies in the Beauty Shop

**Biddies in the Beauty Shop**

The woman sitting at the front counter perked up when the twins walked in the door. "Oh, Lou and Jo!" she said, smiling. She stood up, walked around the counter and started walking back into the beauty shop, continuing talking to them over her shoulder. "Come on in, ladies. Lexi and Jessica are ready to pamper y'all."

"Good," Lou grunted, switching the baby seat she was holding from one hand to the other as she followed the woman back through the beauty shop. "After all that's gone on this week, I could sure use some pampering."

"Mmhmm," Jo agreed. "Me too."

The twin sisters sat down in a pair of parallel chairs—behind each of which was a stylist—at the same time with a simultaneous sigh. If it'd been over anything else at any other time, they might've shared a glance and a faint smile. As it was, though, Jo just glanced back over her shoulder at her familiar stylist Jessica and Lou just leaned forward to carefully put the seat with Billy in it on the floor.

"You girls have had a rough week, huh?" Lexi, Lou's stylist, asked.

"Oh yeah," Lou answered, nodding firmly. "A very rough week."

Standing behind Jo but visible to the twins in the big mirror on the wall, Jessica planted her hands on her hips and made a faint sound that sounded like it was somewhere between a chuckle, a sigh, and a scoff. "Yeah, I heard your men had been giving you two some trouble."

Lou and Jo exchanged a wide-eyed glance, and then looked over their shoulders at the stylist.

"How'd you know that?" Jo asked.

Looking back over at her sister, Lou glared. "Jo, she just said she heard it." As her sister rolled her eyes, Lou glanced back at Jessica. "What I want to know is where exactly you heard that."

Suddenly the stylist looked like a deer caught in the headlights, and glanced over at her co-worker Lexi for support. The other woman just glared in return, and then sighed and looked back at the twins with slightly raised brows.

"Girls, it's all over town already," she said. "Everybody in all of Hazzard already knows that your boys got themselves on trouble a couple nights ago. And that Bo got himself thrown outta the house and Luke's sleeping on the couch."

Jo's mouth fell open. "Where'd you hear that?"

Again, Lou glared at her sister like she was stupid. When Jo only made a "What?" face, Lou gave an exasperated sigh and smacked her sister across the head. "You must be either deaf or stupid," she said. "She said it's all over town. That means she coulda heard it from just about anybody in town, genius."

Again, she glanced back over her shoulder at the stylists—and consequently noticed a few other people in the beauty shop were becoming interested in the conversation. "What I wanna know now is why our personal lives are suddenly so important."

Across the shop, none other than old Lulu Hogg spoke up. "Honey, you're having not only drama but sounds like some trouble on the home front," she said. "Of course people are gonna be interested."

Lou scoffed. "Well, I guess I'm fine with that just so long as everybody just pokes their noses in—and nothing else. It's enough just having everybody's noses in our business. Just so long as they don't interfere in it any other way."

"Mmm," Lulu responded thoughtfully. "Just so you know, girls, I'm on your side."

Positive agreements echoed from a most of the other women in the shop—customers and stylists alike. Including both Lexi and Jessica. Which surprised both Jo and Lou, as the two exchanged a slightly wide-eyed glance.

"After all them years Luke and Bo have lived here, and how few me and Lou here have been here, everybody's taking _our _side?" Jo asked.

Again, affirmatives came from most of the women.

"_Why_?" Jo inquired.

"You think you two are the only ones who've had your men act all responsible, say they're gonna do something for ya, then come home one night drunker than I don't know what?" a middle-aged woman replied, raising an eyebrow at the twins. "Pretty much every man in Hazzard's done it, and pretty much all of them got their butts kicked right back out of the house too."

"And all of them came crawling right back on their knees," Lexi put in smugly.

Lulu turned to look at the girls, a faintly smug smile on her face. "And all you gals gotta do is stand firm and give your men the cold shoulder. I promise, they'll come crawling back."

-+-+-+-

"This is so not fair," Bo complained to Luke as the pair sat in rocking chairs on Uncle Jesse's porch. "I'm stuck here at Uncle Jesse's, not even allowed to go into my own house, and you might as well be kicked out of your house too. Yet our wives get to go on with their lives like absolutely nothing's wrong."

"Does seem unfair," Luke agreed. "But, then again, Jo and Lou weren't the ones who got drunk."

Scoffing, Bo rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but all we were trying to do was to prove to some Yankee that we could hold our liquor. But of course, the girls don't understand that."

"'Course not," Luke agreed. He paused, then more angrily added, "But then nobody was staring Jo and Lou in the face and telling them that they lost their edge. That they were getting old."

"Yeah!" Bo agreed, pounding a balled fist against the arm rest of his rocking chair angrily. "If they were in our position, they woulda done the same thing. Yet now they're _punishing_ us for it."

"And they expect us to come back and _apologize_," Luke added.

With another scoff, Bo sat back and folded his arms. "I don't think we will," he said firmly. "I mean, they're both just waiting for us to fold. They won't be expecting us to resist. So they'll have to fold before we do."

From behind the boys, Uncle Jesse came out of the house, chuckling. "Oh, boys, you're underestimating Lou—and her influence on Jo," he said. "I'm willing to bet hell will freeze over before Lou gives in. Remember that."


	8. Excluded

**Out in the Cold**

Four days. It had now been four days since Bo had been kicked out of his house by his wife, and four days now that Luke had been sleeping on the couch instead of in his own bed. Three days since they had talked and resolved to hold out against their wives. But both the boys' resolve was slowly melting away with each night that passed.

For Bo, the biggest factor wearing him down was being away from his children. In the past four days, he hadn't so much as glimpsed one of his four precious kids. Of course he missed his wife, but more than that he missed putting his son and daughters to bed every night, and he missed hearing his littlest boy waking up crying in the middle of the night, hungry. He missed waking up every morning to seeing his wife's smiling face, and then having breakfast with her and their four kids.

Instead, he had breakfast every morning with Uncle Jesse. While Bo loved Uncle Jesse, it wasn't the same eating with the old man—who was most of the time rather un-talkative at breakfast—as eating with his kids. He missed them so much…

Luke didn't quite have that problem. He still got to live in his house, and still got to see his three daughters every night and got to be woken up by them every morning. He didn't have to miss them, because they were still there. What he missed most was his wife. She had barely spoken a word to him in the past four days, and what words she had spoken were barely civil. And definitely not the kind he was used to from his sweet little Jo.

Without her sweet touch and soft words, he felt lost. Like he was wandering along in a cold wilderness, with nothing to guide him.

With both of the boys, these feelings of being lost, and of missing their families were running deep. And both were beginning to doubt that they had actually taken the right stance against their wives. Both were on the verge of repentance.

The only thing stopping them was some residual sense of pride, but even that was a bare thread that might snap at any moment.

-+-+-+-

The girls, on the other hand, had plenty of stamina and determination, and were prepared to hold out even longer if need be. Fueled by still simmering anger and the support of everyone they had spoken to about the situation, neither one was ready to buckle and give in to their husband yet.

Lou, being as stubborn and determined a woman as they come, would hold out against her husband, believing that she was in the right, until the world came to an end. Sure, she admitted to herself at night, when she laid alone in her bed, that she missed having her husband around. But then the memories of the night he came home drunk would play through her mind, and her resolve would be strengthened again a hundred-fold. She would only have to miss him for a little while longer, she was sure. He would come crawling back to her with an apology any time now.

All she had to do was stand firm and wait.

Jo wasn't as stubborn or determined as her twin sister. Not even remotely close. Most of the time, instead of having an iron will like Lou, she had one that was the opposite: like jelly. One that both flexed and melted easily, especially when it came to her husband. She more often reached an agreement with or gave into him instead of holding out the argument until he gave in.

But this time, she was really angry. And every night, when she slept alone and thoughts of giving in came to mind, she reminded herself that this time, she couldn't afford to give in. This time, he had to cave in first, and he had to change.

And every time she saw him and wanted to say something to him like nothing had happened, she bit back the words with a determination that matched her sister's. She let the words just die unsaid in her mouth. The only words that she spoke to her husband were hostile and served to remind him that she hadn't caved yet.

She wasn't planning on giving up the fight any time soon, either.

-+-+-+-

"Jo, you did get _all_ of the invitations out and mailed, right?" Lou asked, glancing over her shoulder as she burped her baby on her opposite shoulder. The baby gave a rather loud belch, causing Lou to smile then chuckle. Then she turned her attention back to Jo over her shoulder. "Because you know, tomorrow—"

"Is New Year's Eve, the day of the party," Jo finished for her sister. She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Lou, I got all of the invitations out two days ago. So people have at least three days' notice." She sighed. "It was a bit of a struggle to get it done without Luke knowing, though."

Moving to the kitchen table and the tiny car seat atop it, Lou laid her baby down in it. When she had secured Billy, she looked back up to Jo again. "But he didn't see them, did he?"

Jo shook her head. "No," she said. "He didn't. I knew that'd ruin your whole little plan."

Lou smiled. "Good. Good. My guess is that the boys will be getting our little message sometime today, then. I can hardly wait."

-+-+-+-

"Uncle Jesse?" Bo called, walking in the house. As he went further in the house, he waited for a reply, but there was none. "Uncle Jesse?" Again, there was no response. "Hellllooooo? Uncle Jesse?"

Still, there was no answer.

So Bo walked into the kitchen, still looking for his uncle. "Uncle Je—" he started, but he stopped when he saw a piece of paper lying on top of the red- and white-checkered table cloth. And he stopped to read it.

It didn't take him long to realize it was an invitation from Lou and Jo to Uncle Jesse. One inviting him to their "fantastic" New Year's Eve party at "Betty-Lou's house." Hurt and pain flared up in him right there. Since when was it only Lou's house? And how did she since when did she throw a party in their house without asking him?

Then his eyes scanned down to the bottom. There, at the bottom, was a note written in pen. It read: "P.S. Bo and Luke aren't invited."

Sighing, Bo picked up the piece of paper and went back out the door. He had to tell Luke.


	9. Welcome Home

**Well, here is the last chapter of this story! I know, you're probably blinking and going, "Wow, that was a really short story." Well, yeah, it was. I'm sorry if that's not a good thing.**

* * *

**Welcome Home**

It was eight o'clock when people started showing up at Lou's house for the party. By that time, she had all of her kids properly groomed and at least halfway tamed, the house was clean and furniture rearranged to accommodate lots of people, and Jo had the food all laid out properly. The twin sisters were prepared.

For more than just the party.

Both were hoping that they would see their husbands tonight. And not for more freeze-outs or another argument like the ones that had been going on for the past six days.

For quite the opposite.

When eight o'clock came and people started arriving, both girls looked out for their husbands to be among the first to show up. They weren't. Lou and Jo shrugged it off, though, and kept on with welcoming people to the party like they hadn't been expecting their husbands to show up at all.

When nine o'clock came and went, Bo and Luke still hadn't arrived. All of the invited guests had, but not the two uninvited guests that the girls were hoping to see most. Again, the girls shrugged it off and went on with the party.

Then ten o'clock rolled around. By that time, all three of Jo's kids had fallen asleep on the couch, Lou's twin daughters beside them, and only Johnny was still struggling to stay awake. The girls scooped up their kids and carried them off to the room that Rosalie and Rosemarie shared. As they carefully arranged six kids on two beds, they exchanged a glance. A bit more solemn than they had been in the past hours, the girls returned to their party.

Ten passed and eleven came. While the party guests got excited and anticipated the New Year—which was now less than an hour away—the girls became anxious and wondered if Lou's plan had worked at all.

The night was quickly running out, like sand slipping through Lou and Jo's fingers.

-+-+-+-

Luke checked his watch again as he slid out of the window of the General Lee. It read eleven fourty-eight. Unconsciously, his step quickened as he walked up the steps to the front door of Lou and Bo's house. The time before the New Year was quickly running out.

He took the four steps in a two big steps, pausing on the porch before the door.

Right behind him, Bo hopped up the steps in a single bound and stood behind Luke. He was patient for a moment while Luke hesitated, but when it became longer than a brief minute, Bo poked his cousin sharply in the back.

"_Go_," he said bluntly.

Taking a deep breath, Luke stepped up to the door. He started to knock, but Bo jabbed him in the back again and Luke decided that it was probably better to open the door and walk in unannounced.

And so he did.

The minute that he stepped in the door, several heads snapped in his direction. Among them were the identical-faced ones of his wife and his sister-in-law. He thought he saw a flash of relief and joy pass across his wife's face, but if it did, it was gone too fast for Luke to know if it had really been there.

He stood still for a long minute, unable to make himself move. Then his wife set out—with a determined step—towards him, and he found himself moving to meet her halfway. When he did reach her and stopped, she determinedly crossed his arms, and his mouth suddenly felt dry. Why he should feel nervous, he didn't know, but he did.

"What're you doing here?" she asked. "You weren't invited."

"Yeah, the note on Uncle Jesse's invitation made that awfully clear," Luke muttered under his breath. His wife glared at him, raising a single eyebrow questioningly. So he went on. "I came here to apologize, baby."

Her face didn't flinch at the term of endearment. Her expression was neutral, conveying neither skepticism nor belief. "Well, apologize, then."

Luke took a deep breath. "I'm sorry." He paused, and Jo gestured for him to go on, probably thinking that that had been the extent of his apology. It wasn't. "I'm sorry for what I did," he continued. "I'm sorry that I went out and got myself drunk that night. I'm sorry I came home like that."

"Yeah?" she said, her expression and flat tone now slipping. "You're _really_ sorry?"

He nodded adamantly. "Yes. I'm really, _really_ sorry, Jo."

"And you're not going to do it again, right?" Now the hope was definitely leaking into her voice, melting away her anger.

Again, he nodded unwaveringly. "I'm not going to go out and get drunk again," he said determinedly. "I promise."

A soft smile stretched across Jo's face and she stepped forward to wrap her husband in a hug. His arms automatically fell around her in return, and his eyes fell closed as he clung to her tightly. He never wanted to go on without her again.

"Welcome home, baby," she whispered in his ear. "I've missed you."

-+-+-+-

Bo walked in the door not two steps behind his cousin. When Lou and Jo's heads turned towards the pair of cousins, Bo saw hot anger flash through his wife's eyes. But he was expecting that, and it didn't phase him.

As Luke and Jo moved towards each other, Bo and Lou stood frozen, exchanging stares. Lou's, as previously mentioned, was sweltering with anger, while Bo's was determined. For a long moment, neither of them moved.

Then Lou started towards Bo with heavy steps. When she reached him, she wrapped a hand around his arm with a vice-like grip. "Go," she said sharply.

"Now just hold on, Lou," he said, looking straight into her gray eyes. "I came here for a reason, and I'm not gonna let you throw me out this time until you listen. I came to…" He stopped, then forced himself onward. He had to say this. "I came to apologize, Lou."

She released her grip on his arm to cross her arms. "Out with it then," she said.

"Okay." Bo took a deep breath and remembered what he had already planned out in his head to say. "I'm sorry for being so irresponsible, Lou. I'm sorry that I went out and got in a drinking contest and got myself drunk. And that I forgot your beer." The faintest smile of amusement tugged at Lou's lips at that, but she wouldn't let it spring all the way out. "And I'm sorry it took me this long to come and apologize to you."

When he stopped, Lou raised an eyebrow. "And?"

He frowned. "And?" What else could there be to say? Then he realized what Lou was waiting for. "Oh. Right. And I promise never to do it again."

Lou's arms slowly unfolded and the sharpness faded from her face. "You promise never to get yourself drunk again?" she said. He opened his mouth to say yes, but she went added, "Without my consent?"

He grinned and nodded. "Promise."

Smiling too, Lou stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Bo. "And I'm sorry for kicking you out like I did, baby. That was a little much. And as long as you keep your promise, I promise not to kick you out again."

"I promise," Bo repeated, then slyly added, "Betty."

Lou raised an eyebrow and her eyes narrowed. "Uh, _no_. You're not on that good of standing now—or probably ever."

He started to reply, but Lou silenced him, pressing her lips to his in an eager kiss. He wasted no time to respond. When they finally broke apart, Lou whispered in Bo's ear, "Welcome home, Bo. Took you long enough to come back."

"Don't I know it," he murmured.

Around them, the party guests weren't paying any attention to either couple. All of their attention was focused on the ticking second hand on the wall as it arced towards the number twelve.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six," they loudly counted down in unison.

Bo, Lou, Luke, and Jo all turned to look at the clock as well. And they joined in counting down until the New Year along with their family and friends.

"Five, four, three, two… ONE! Happy New Year!" everyone shouted. Cheers rang out from almost every person gathered in the house. Others clinked glasses together with one another. And every "together" couple in the room kissed.

Including the newly reunited Duke couples.

"Happy new beginning!" Jo called. "Nineteen-eighty-nine is gone. The nineteen-nineties are here, and the eighties are gone. And so is everything that went wrong in them. Fights and everything."

Lou nodded. "Let's forget the fight and get on with the rest of the making-up already."

* * *

**Now, then, before you get to hopping all over my butt with the "OMG, I can't believe Bo and Luke gave in! Lou and Jo are such asses!" comments, let me say something.**

**If your husband or wife of five years was sent out for a short errand, and was supposed to come home quickly to spend time with you, and instead, they went out and got drunk, would you not be pissed? I most certainly would.**

** So this story panned out like that. My apologies if you think that was wrong and you disagree. I hope you enjoyed the story anyway.**

**I dunno when the fourth book will be written/posted. Hopefully it won't be too long. **

**Much love and happy reading,**

_**-The Noble French Fry**_


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